


I'm Sorry

by TheGirlWhoDancesWithAlphas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Self Harm, Trigger Warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:30:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWhoDancesWithAlphas/pseuds/TheGirlWhoDancesWithAlphas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is slowly fading away in front of him, and Derek is fighting himself to be the one to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> I should warn you that there are Triggers in here, Self Harm, Depression, ect.

Over the past few months, stiles had gotten quieter. Normally Derek would have applauded this except he couldn't help but think that the kid was getting quieter because he was breaking down inside.

It had reminded him of Laura, how she had been after the fire. She had stopped talking, slowly retreating away from social situations. The overwhelming scent of tears, sadness and the metallic smell of blood following her everywhere she went. It had been the talking that had been Derek's first warning, Laura had once been as vivacious as stiles, as loud and bubbly and wonderful. And he had slowly watched as she faded away.

And despite the fact that he didn't want to care, he didn't want to care about anyone anymore because everyone he cared about got hurt, or hurt him. Against all his better judgment he cared about stiles, so much more than he had originally intended to.

He hadn't said anything, he just watched as the teenager slowly became more introverted in front of his eyes. He watched as his face grew paled, his sleeves grew longer and his cloths baggier. He watched as a small red MP3 player had become stiles' constant companion.

When he stood outside stiles' window at night (which was not creepy at all) he could hear stiles lying in his bed. No tapping or annoying other quirks, nothing he had come to associate with stiles. That he had once hated but now missed the presence of. They had been replacing by a quiet pained voice singing almost too low for him to hear from his perch beside stiles' window on the roof.

You're all I hoped I'd find  
in every single way  
and everything I could give  
is everything you couldn't take  
Because nothing feels like home, you're a thousand miles away  
And the hardest part of living  
Is just taking breaths to stay

Because I know I'm good for something  
I just haven't found it yet

Stiles' breath had evened out at that point, becoming more relaxed and Derek had assumed he had fallen asleep listening to the song on repeat.

He sighed, climbing down from the roof and walking home.

He was horrible at feelings, completely rubbish but even he realized that there was something wrong with stiles. And the worst part was, he seemed to be the only one who had noticed.

Scott was too busy with Allison. Sheriff Stilinski was working all the time and Derek couldn't even think of other excuses for the rest of his pack because in his opinion the only reason they hadn't noticed was because they just generally didn't care enough.

That thought alone made him more upset than it should have, that he cared more about stiles than everyone else because he was Derek hale. He didn't fucking care. He tried so hard not to care about anyone.

He had dug his fingers into the scorched wood of the wall as a reminder to himself, why he didn't care. Why he avoided caring. What had happened the last time he cared. And it was working fine, until a small voice in his head that sounded far too much like stiles for his liking had popped up.

"You can't just leave him alone." Derek had sighed, mentally reminding the voice in a very pissed off mental tone that the last time he had let himself care about someone they had burned down his house and killed his entire family. To which the voice's response was "do you really think stiles would do that?"

And Derek had to admit that no, he didn't. But he hadn't thought Kate would either.

And the logical part of him (obviously) knew that stiles was nothing like Kate argent, that he wasn't going to rip his heart out and stop on it with a steel toed stiletto. But he really wasn't sure he was ready to accept that he cared about someone again.

He threw himself onto the bed, almost asleep before the voice spoke again, "what if it's not about you?". Derek had sighed, because fuck. The voice inside his head (and he was not even going to think about the fact that he was listening to voices that sounded like stiles and just chalk it up to not having enough sleep, and the fact that stiles was the closest thing he had to a conscience.) was right.

Stiles was hurting, he wasn't speaking.

His best friend had abandoned him, his father was working all the time and the pack was… well Derek hadn't been very clear about stiles being pack.

Mostly because he was afraid that if he told stiles that he was pack then they would have to discuss where he fit in in the pack. They would have to talk about why when he ordered the wolves to do something they did it, most of the time even faster than they would have done it if Derek had ordered them to.

And no it wasn't because they loved stiles more, though they did. Derek wasn't even going to try to kid himself that they didn't, because that is just stupid. Who wouldn't love stiles more?

But Derek hadn't been ready to talk about it, hadn't even been ready to admit it to himself. Because he was ready to just chalk it up to the entire pack just loving stiles so much they would do anything he said and ignoring the fact that Jackson pretty much hated stiles' guts and still did everything he said without hesitation.

Derek rolled out of bed, grabbing his jacket walking the short distance to stiles' house. Not even thinking about the fact that it was a little bit odd to show up at someone's house at two in the morning and break into their window. Because everything Derek did was a little odd… and this was stiles.

He wasn't surprised to realize that stiles wasn't sleeping again when he slid his window open. The boy hardly ever slept for as long as he should.

He also wasn't surprised at the strange look the teen had given him when he slid into the window and walked across the room, grabbing at his wrist and tugging him towards his bed.

Had stiles been himself, derek was sure he would have been plastered with questions. But as it was. Stiles was silent. A fact that worried him more than anything else, but he intended to fix it.

He pulled stiles into bed, wrapping his arms around his middle and nuzzling his head into the gap between his neck and shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, but loud enough he knew stiles heard him. "I'm really bad at this, and that doesn't excuse anything because I'm pretty sure I'm the crappiest person in existence for letting you go this long being upset."

Derek frowned, pressing his lips to the soft skin of stiles' collarbone.

"I miss my stiles, the bumbling geeky awkward kid who trips over his feet and always has an answer to my question plus about four thousand other words I didn't ask for." He said tightening his grip on stiles' stomach. "Don't think I didn't notice that he's gone."

Stiles was shaking slightly in Derek's arms, tears pouring down his face silently.

Derek just pulled him tighter.

"I love you." He mumbled, "and I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. "

Derek had held him that night, and every night since. Comforting him through the tears and waiting until he was ready to talk about what was bothering him, although Derek already knew he didn't say anything until stiles was ready to tell him.

He didn't expect it to all get better all of the sudden; he would show up at stiles' house some days and find his boyfriend curled under the covers, shaking, and red iPod in his hands and music blasting in his ears.

And Derek would climb into the bed, kissing the scars that laced his wrists and hugging him as close as he possibly could. Reminding him that it was okay, that he wasn't going anywhere. That he wasn't alone.

And after a while, it got better. Not perfect, but slowly it got better. Stiles talked more, he started wearing short sleeves again, and the bags under his eyes slowly faded.

Derek didn't convince himself that everything was going to be perfect. They had their ups and downs like everyone did. Stiles was still broken, still afraid of being left behind, Derek was still damaged. Sometimes he wondered how he managed to let people in as far as he did. But they had each other, and most nights that was enough.

Notes: The soundtrack for this fic was Mayday Parade's: Miserable at Best. which is also the song that stiles was singing. I'm sorry for writing something so terribly sad and also, this was sort of my first try at Derek's perspective so tell me how i did... please. thank you!


End file.
